The image size limit has been raised to 1mb! Anything larger than that should be linked to. This is a HARD limit, please do not abuse it.

Our new Indie Games subforum is now open for business in G&T. Go and check it out, you might land a code for a free game. If you're developing an indie game and want to post about it, follow these directions. If you don't, he'll break your legs! Hahaha! Seriously though.

Our rules have been updated and given their own forum. Go and look at them! They are nice, and there may be new ones that you didn't know about! Hooray for rules! Hooray for The System! Hooray for Conforming!

Traits:
* Open-Minded: Ay considers all sentient creatures capable of reason and trust. As such, he's willing to give most creatures the opportunity to prove themselves before assuming the worst.
* Dance, Dance, Revolution: Ay has a particular love for good music and dance. Even if he's the only one dancing and everyone else is laughing. Fortunately, children appreciate his goofiness. Unfortunately, his dance moves have likely cost him more than one romantic encounter.
* Brawler: Ay has tried to couple his martial abilities and his "entertaining" dance to earn money. When possible, he enters into fighting matches to earn coin, using his dancing to add a level of humor to a normally serious event. This has worked out well in the sense that it tends to bring a few more spectators and earn the event host a larger purse (that he's shared with Ay). However, sometimes he goes overboard and it results in a painful loss. Either way, he gets to practice both things he loves; fighting and dancing.
* Studious: Ay understands that his martial ability is for more than just show. He spends significant time not only practicing his forms, body discipline and reactions, but continuing to study, either by watching others fight or reading about anatomy or philosophy relating to combat. He realizes that in life or death situations, discipline and efficiency is necessary if he is going to stay alive without killing another.
Ideals:
* Ay doesn't believing in killing any sentient creature unless absolutely necessary (i.e. failure to do so would result in his own death, or the death of an innocent). As such, he refused to use any kind of bladed weapon in combat, as he feels it is too easy to kill someone with a bladed weapon. By relying on his staff, well placed darts, or bare hands, he feels the added difficulty to take someone's life gives more opportunity to change his mind and take an alternate path.
Flaws:
* Ay finds himself drawn to protect children. He believes in the innocence of childhood and believes all children should have the opportunity to be free, to play and have fun. He's donated both money and time to orphanages to help those children without. His internal duty to children could prove an easy lever to force him into actions he otherwise would not do.

I'm not going to try and dictate the amount that anyone should post per day or whatever. Its silly to try to impose some sort of quota and destined to fail anyway. I would desire players to post regularly though, of course.

The more you put into a game, the better the results would be for everyone involved, right? Active players would have more fun that inactive players, etc.. So why be an inactive player? As long as the pace of the game keeps moving then I will be happy.

Also...if the pace does start to lag (and of course it will), I would be annoying and start @'ing people to participate

All dwarves whisper of Undermountain. Some reluctantly, for they would rather forget the downfall of one of their own and the shame for what the depths of the mountain and mines became. Others whisper in caution, as a tale to tell unruly children who don't obey their elders, or dig too deep too quickly, of the horrors that will come out of Undermountain and steal them down beneath the ground. Still others whisper of gold, of mithral, of treasure; that Undermountain is in fact a long forgotten hoard of a lost dwarven clan that is sitting there waiting to be delved and that the monsters and horrors of the depths are exaggerated to keep other dwarves from claiming the treasure for themselves. These whispers are generally regarded as lunacy.

Dural shuddered when thinking of these last kind of dwarves. He could not imagine how the rest of his kind left the mountain to rot in darkness and evil for generations, let alone think only of riches or fame when faced with the prospect of returning back beneath the mountain. For him, the only return to Undermountain for his kind would be borne out of a sense of responsibility for reclaiming what was lost to the dark.

His family had long grown up on the outskirts of civilization, castoffs from the original survivors of the Melairkyn that fled from Undermountain so long ago. Moving from mining town to mining town, they found work as delvers, trailblazers, and the like, supporting the efforts of others to eek out a living. Dural himself found work in a similar hodgepodge fashion: from being the first into old abandoned mines, charting safe passageways and marking off collapsed or mined out areas; to signing on as a caravan guard, protecting the occasional shipments to larger centres that kept these outlying communities afloat. In his later years he even helped guide greenhorn adventurers through the wilderness surrounding some of these communities and the upper levels of mines they sword held lost dungeons (they never did, and they never listened to him telling them beforehand they never did).

All of this in Dural's mind was just preparation. He needed to prepare himself for the journey to come, to make sure that he was ready for Undermountain if he was to have any hope of bringing laughter, of the sound of picks clanging against rock, back beneath Waterdeep's feet. And so, one day, he picked up his hammer, his axe, his pack full of provisions and set out towards the City of Splendors. Reaching the Yawning Portal, he strode inside, and headed directly towards the Entry Well without a glance sideways to anyone else.

"If any of y'actually hold a measure of courage and determination about you," the pack-laden dwarf exclaimed as he rested his warhammer head first (and with an audible clang) upon the edge of the well, leaning on it as he looked about the crowd, "And y'aren't those whose eyes grown ten-times their size upon seeing a gold coin. Then I'd be willing to entertain the possibility that y'd help me rid these depths of the dark and deadly."

Salazar H'san, a name he gave himself, originally hails from Athkatla, the third child to a noble house.
Although not outright hated by his family, he wasn't present at the lavish parties and other functions that his house often held; fear of reprisals or political gains over his house meant that he was a secret to be kept hidden away.
It seemed fate hadn't quite finished piling on the problems for a house he never names, as an affinity for magic, although barely restrained, manifested itself early during childhood. Arguments were had, Salazar barely remembers what was said, but soon, after an awkward but heartfelt goodbye, he was sent off to a local wizard academy. Life seemed slightly better here, the other students didn't seem to much care for his infernal appearance, but as time went on and as Salazar grew into a man, he realised he wasn't really being taught anything. He was being studied. Whilst certainly no match for any of the older wizards there, he did make sure to spike the evening meal on the day of his unannounced departure; with the most powerful locally available laxative.
He set out into the world hoping to find a place he could call home. Years on the road have taught him that people are ignorant at best, outright malicious at worst.
It isn't all bad, though. The adventurer's life suited him. The bluffing, the lying, the sneaking around; what a rush!
His spells seemed to be becoming more potent, as well!

Alright here is Thistle, a Wood elf hermit who spent several decades alone tending to an isolated glade. Rampaging monsters destroyed it and cast Thistle back into the world. His wandering since then has lead him to this group of motley folks.

Erif was an officer in his town militia. During a raid by bandits, he offered a prayer for aid. No god came to his aid, but a succubus did. He now struggles with his devilish powers while trying to achieve glory and honor through conquering the unconquerable Undermountain.

Traits: Serious and honor-bound.

Ideals: Glory, Honor, and Order are the highest virtues one should aspire towards.